


to me, you're so beautiful

by orphan_account



Category: GOT7
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4464242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5+1 fic. alternatively titled: 5 times the members of got7 knew that jackson and mark had fallen for each other, and the 1 time jackson realizes himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to me, you're so beautiful

1.

Bambam.

 

It’s 2:20am according to Jackson’s alarm clock, and he’s woken up to a very uncomfortable bladder. He gets up slowly and quietly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with both hands and ruffling his hair as he tiptoes across the floor, careful not to wake Mark who is sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. He relieves himself, feeling heavy from sleep and he’s exhausted, ready to go back to his bed and sleep the rest of the night. It’s 2:20am, he doesn't need to be up for at least another 5 hours and he wants to savour them. Sleep doesn't come easy to them these days.

He’s walking down the hallway and he notices a dull light coming from the living room and a quiet hum of noise coming from the TV. Jackson stretches once more and shuffles into the room to see Bambam curled up in a blanket right at the edge of the couch, watching some comedy show that Jackson vaguely recognises on the TV. Jackson gives him a look and Bambam smiles slightly, almost ashamed that he’s been caught.

“Couldn't sleep,” he whispers, and Jackson merely nods and walks over to sit beside him, pulling Bambam’s feet into his lap and sprawling across the couch until he’s in a comfortable position. The show isn't particularly funny, but Bambam quietly laughs, and Jackson laughs along with him.

There’s a soft cough from the doorway about 10 minutes later and Jackson looks up. Mark, his eyes heavy, barely open and his hair tousled from sleep, pads across the room with his blanket draped over his shoulders, mumbling something about how sleep is important and how Jackson woke him up. Bambam moves his feet almost immediately from Jackson’s lap and shifts to sit cross legged on the couch and Jackson gives him a questionable look, but Mark is already beginning to lie down on the other side of Jackson, moving so his head is in Jackson’s lap and the blanket is draped over himself. Jackson can see Bambam smile lightly out the corner of his eye, and Jackson says nothing, his hand moving to stroke Mark’s hair softly as he goes back to watching the TV.

Bambam clears his throat after a while and Jackson turns towards him to tell him to be quiet as Mark is asleep, but Bambam speaks first. “You both are so domestic, you know that right?” he says softly, looking directly at Jackson’s hand in Mark’s hair which has stilled, and Jackson shrugs but says nothing. Mark makes a snuffling sound in his sleep, to which Jackson suddenly thinks is the cutest thing he’s ever heard.

 

 

2.

Yugyeom.

 

It’s late evening, and they’ve all just returned back from the studio after practice. Jackson’s shoulders feel heavy and they ache, a dull pain forming from where he didn’t stretch properly beforehand. He scolds himself silently, trudging into his room and switching the light on, ridding himself of his shirt then pulling off his snapback, carding a hand through his hair before replacing it, this time backwards. He rolls his shoulders and immediately regrets it, groaning into the pillow as he collapses on his bed feeling sorry for himself.

Mark walks in a few minutes later, laughing at Jackson and sitting beside him. “Massage?” he asks, and Jackson groans again, nodding into his pillow as Mark climbs onto his bed and straddles his back, leg over each side, and Jackson can hear him rubbing his hands together for warmth. Mark starts kneading at Jackson’s shoulders and it’s the greatest relief Jackson’s ever felt, so great that he can’t bite back a moan as Mark’s hands rub at _just the right spot_ , and if Mark’s hands still on Jackson’s shoulders ever so slightly, he certainly doesn’t feel it. “Your hands are incredible,” Jackson breathes into his pillow, arching his back a little to get Mark to knead harder. Mark understands and obliges, causing Jackson to groan into his pillow again.

Yugyeom walks past a second later and makes a disgusted sound, walking into the room with his eyes shielded by his left hand. “Oh gross, you left the door open while you’re… oh,” he realizes, taking his hand away from his eyes to witness the sight, and Jackson raises his eyebrows at Yugyeom and grins.

“What’s up?” he asks, groaning again faintly as Mark’s hands move lower, towards his middle back.

Yugyeom rolls his eyes and scoffs. “You were making obscene noises,” he replies simply, and Jackson laughs.

“Too dirty for the maknae’s ears?”

“You’re disgusting.”

Jackson shifts his weight a little so he can look back at Mark and ask why he’s stopped still all of a sudden. Jackson notices almost immediately but stays quiet, and Yugyeom outright says it aloud.

“Mark, why are you so red?”

He's blushing and not looking at either one of them. Yugyeom decides he’s had enough, and walks back out of the room, mumbling something under his breath that Jackson isn't quite able to hear, and he’s not entirely sure he wants to.

Mark is still for a second longer, and then shakes his head and smiles, stealing Jackson’s snapback and placing it on his own head in the same way, a mischievous grin playing at his lips as Jackson looks at him with fake annoyance.

Mark’s legs tighten around Jackson’s sides a touch in response and it sends tingles through Jackson’s spine as Jackson realizes that maybe that tingling feeling isn’t from the massage at all, but maybe from Mark himself.

 

 

3.

Jaebum.

 

Jackson arrives back from his two hour session at the gym, hair still slightly damp from his shower there, to Jaebum and Mark having a small heated argument in the living room. He raises his eyebrows at the both of them once they notice he’s there, and Jaebum speaks up.

“Are you seeing this Jackson?” he asks, his tone accusing, pointing to Mark.

Mark rolls his eyes and goes back to mindlessly switching the channels on the TV, feigning boredom at Jaebum’s remarks. Jackson drops his gym bag and walks around the side of the couch to see Jaebum pointing directly at the sweater Mark is wearing.

It’s Jackson’s, his black and white one to be exact and Jackson merely shrugs, failing to see what all the fuss is about. Mark looks up at him and tilts his head a little, a smile tugging at the sides of his lips as he pulls the sleeves of the sweater over his hands as if cold, but he seems to compose himself and look down at the remote cradled in his lap like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

Jaebum throws his hands up in the air dramatically and gets up off the couch. “The other week you told me you didn’t like to share clothes! When I told you I wanted to borrow your red snapback, you said no and literally went out to the store to buy me a brand new version of the exact same one!”  


“Hyung is ungrateful I see,” Jackson frowns, but then smirks which earns a laugh from Mark, who sees Jaebum annoyed and turns back towards the TV with a straight face. Jaebum huffs and walks out of the room, saying nothing more as Jackson slinks onto the chair nearest to him and picks up the latest edition of GQ that no doubt Jaebum bought for himself but hasn’t managed to read yet.

He feels a shift next to him and he looks up to Mark sitting on the arm of the chair, his eyes looking at the magazine, reading along with Jackson.

“You’re not bothered, are you?” Mark asks after a while, and something in Jackson stirs as he looks up to see Mark staring directly at him, inches away as the chair is small and whatever quip Jackson was going to come out with is gone, his brain is blank.

“No,” he says eventually, his gaze not leaving Mark, “it looks good on you. You do know I wore that to bed last night, right?”

Mark shrugs and leans back against the chair, his arm brushing Jackson’s as he closes his eyes and hums. “I know.”

 

 

4.

Jinyoung.

 

It’s a Saturday, early in the morning as Jackson walks into the kitchen, stretching high enough to bang the top of the door frame, startling Jinyoung who drops a spoon in the process. Jackson huffs out a laugh and pads over to the fridge, grabbing the milk from the side compartment. He picks out his preferred cereal from the top cupboard and begins making two bowls and Jinyoung stares on with the spoon in his hand.

“You’re not going to eat with that are you?” Jackson asks, turning his head to look at Jinyoung, “it’s been on the floor for longer than five seconds.”

“One, you know that rule is bullshit Jackson, germs are germs. And two, why are you making Mark a bowl of cereal? Why do you make Mark a bowl of cereal almost every morning? He never surfaces the same time as you do. He always takes longer to wake up.”

“How do you know it’s for Mark?” Jackson quirks an eyebrow and Jinyoung laughs, a small laugh that’s probably intended to be harsh but coming out of Jinyoung’s mouth, Jackson could never see it that way.

“Who else would it be for?”

Jackson doesn’t really have an answer for that, and he doesn’t have to respond as Mark comes in a second later, grabbing the bowl that Jackson hands to him and walking back into the living room without a word said between them.

“Ugh, you’re so domestic," Jinyoung exclaims, rolling his eyes and taking the milk from Jackson to put back in the fridge.

“You’re the second person to say that to me this past month,” Jackson responds, and Jinyoung merely shrugs and closes the fridge door.

“It’s true.”

Jackson turns quiet and follows Mark into the living room, sitting beside him and tucking into his cereal.

“Are you okay?” Mark queries, and Jackson nods solemnly.

“Yeah.”

Mark doesn’t press for more, he just smiles a private smile for Jackson, one that Jackson knows is just for him and it makes his heart flutter ever so slightly and suddenly he’s confused.

***

They end up doing the dishes together, and Jackson puts too much liquid soap into the sink and there’s suds everywhere. Mark laughs, doubles over and Jackson mock pouts, folding his arms and getting himself even more covered in the process. “The lid fell off!” he protests, in which Mark laughs even more, manages to compose himself after a while and steps closer to Jackson. He lifts his hand and with the pad of his thumb, wipes away some soap Jackson has on his nose. Jackson’s breath hitches and he swiftly prays to whoever is up there that Mark didn’t notice.

Jinyoung enters the kitchen and stops, looking at the sink and sighing dramatically. He shakes his head. “You two are disgustingly cute,” he jeers as he walks forward to put his bowl in the soapy sink.

Jackson flicks some suds at him, hitting him square in the forehead and Mark can’t stop laughing again.

 

 

5.

Youngjae.

 

It’s all Youngjae’s fault. Everything is always Youngjae’s fault.

They’re at the courts a mile or so from where they live and after a particularly flimsy pass from Yugyeom, Youngjae tries to catch the ball but trips, and falls straight into Mark who in turn twists at an awkward angle on the way down. He winces and clutches at his ankle, trying not to show pain but failing, and Youngjae is voicing his apologies one after the other as Mark keeps telling him that _it’s okay, it doesn’t hurt that much, I’ll be fine in a second_.

Jackson can see the pain in his eyes and he’s worried, he walks over to them both and crouches down beside Mark, his hands wrapping around Mark’s ankle softly as he looks up.

“Probably not broken,” he says, "but we can have it checked out back at the dorms.”

Mark nods, and proceeds to try and get up but hisses again as he brings his weight down on the sprain, and Jackson is there to catch him before he falls. “Come on,” Jackson begins, pointing to his back, “I’ll give you a ride home.” 

Mark blushes and laughs, and with a little help from Yugyeom and Jaebum, Mark wraps his legs around Jackson’s waist and shifts to get into a comfortable position. “Are you really going to walk home with me on your back?” Mark asks, his breath ghosting Jackson’s ear and Jackson shivers.

“You are a twig, you weigh nothing, get over yourself,” Jackson responds and Mark grins against his neck and Jackson can’t help but grin too.

Jaebum groans and rolls his eyes. Jackson is going to kill him later.

***

He hears Youngjae before he sees him. Jackson is at the stove, watching the soup he’s cooking to make sure it doesn't boil over and cause a mess otherwise Jinyoung will have his neck.

“What are you doing?” Youngjae asks looking over Jackson’s shoulder.

“Making soup.”

“You never cook.”

“I never cook for just anyone.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, and he wishes at that moment he could take them back and shove them down his throat. Instead of mocking, or laughing, or teasing, Youngjae brings a hand up to Jackson’s shoulder and taps once lightly, moving to grab a bowl from the cupboard to bring back over to Jackson.

“He looks at you as if you’re the sun, you know,” Youngjae admits quietly, and Jackson stops stirring the soup to look directly at Youngjae.

Jackson scoffs, and deflects.

“Because I'm super hot and I shine bright above the rest, right?” he proclaims with a smirk.

Youngjae ignores him. “You give him light. He’s happier around you.”

Jackson’s smirk falls and he looks back at the soup, his brows furrow and he’s not entirely sure what to answer with. Youngjae continues. “But he thinks you’re out of reach. He doesn't know, Jackson. He doesn't know, but the rest of us do.” He rests his hand on Jackson’s shoulder once more, squeezing lightly and walking away, turning back to face Jackson as he’s nearly out of the kitchen. “Don’t fuck this up." he whispers, and then he’s gone.

 

 

+1.

Mark.

 

It’s late, too late for Jackson to be awake but he’s awoken by Mark cussing quietly in English and a loud sigh.

“Everything okay?” Jackson asks, his voice coming out as a croak. He turns the lamp on and sits up in bed, scrubbing his hands over his face a couple of times and willing his eyes to open long enough to stay awake.

“Yeah,” Mark responds, annoyance in his voice, “went to get some water from the kitchen to bring back and dropped the glass on my bed, now there’s water all over the sheets and there’s no way I’m sleeping in that.”

Jackson can’t help but laugh and Mark scowls at him, mock pouting (a trait he no doubt picked up from Jackson) and sitting on the only dry bit of his bed, the corner at the left.  
Mark is dressed in gray pajama pants, too baggy for his small frame so they hang on his hips, and one of Jackson’s tank tops. Jackson’s heart wrenches.

“I’ll grab the spare blanket from the wardrobe and sleep on the sofa," Mark decides, and goes to walk out of the room but Jackson shifts closer to the wall and holds open his blanket as an invitation. “Don’t be silly.”

Mark doesn’t say anything for a second or two, just stands in the middle of the room, his face blank. Jackson is about to apologise profusely but Mark takes a step forward, and another and another until he’s lying down in Jackson’s bed, right next to Jackson, the blanket pulled up to his waist.

They've shared a bed before, and woken up practically spooning but this time it’s…different.

 

Jackson’s nervous.

Mark makes him nervous.

 

It’s silent for a while, and Jackson thinks Mark is asleep so he goes to move and face the wall but there’s a hand on his chest and he stops moving.

The streetlight just outside their window creates a small, warm orange glow in their room and it’s casting shadows across Mark’s face as he turns to face him, and it’s the most beautiful sight Jackson has ever seen.

“You know,” Mark begins, and Jackson forgets how to breathe. Their faces are close, too close for Jackson to stay calm and he feels his palms sweating. Mark’s hand feels like a lead weight on his chest, but at the same time he never wants Mark to take it away. His brain is a jumble of emotions and he can’t catch a hold of one for long enough to compose a single coherent thought.

“We share clothes. You make me breakfast almost every morning. You let me fall asleep on you, you protect, and you care, and Jackson… _you made me soup_.”

Jackson says nothing, his breathing heavier as his heart beats faster and he’s 100% sure Mark can feel it under his hand and he’s almost embarrassed.

There’s a long pause, and Mark speaks up.

“Jackson, say something.”

He hesitates. “I’m scared.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said it aloud, and his feelings rush to the surface and spill out of his mouth before he can stop himself. “I’m scared. I’m scared of fucking this up. I’m scared you don’t want me back. I’m scared of hurting you. I’m scared.”

Mark says nothing, he brings his hand up from Jackson’s chest and to the back of his neck, pulling Jackson flush against him, closing in those last few inches between them and pressing his mouth to Jackson’s. It’s chaste, and warm, and the best thing Jackson has ever felt.

Mark pulls away but not before pressing one, two, three more times against Jackson’s lips with his own.

They both look into each other’s eyes, and Jackson feels like he’s seeing Mark for the first time. The suppressed feelings of _“fuck I like my best friend”_ bursting from his chest and Mark is right in front of him, sleep soft and homely and drowsy, and Jackson doesn’t think he’s ever felt this many emotions at once in his life.

Mark giggles, _giggles_ and Jackson laughs in retaliation, pulling Mark towards him once more and shifting so Jackson is on his back and Mark’s head is on his chest.

“I feel like this is a long time coming,” Mark admits eventually, his speech a little slurred as he’s on the edge of consciousness. Jackson tightens his arm around Mark and laughs softly. “Does this mean you’re going to make more soup for me?” Mark asks, and Jackson can feel him smiling against his chest.

“I don’t cook for just anyone, you know.”

* * *

The alarm goes off at 7:30am and Jackson wakes up to an empty bed. He begins to panic, but looks up and Mark is at the bedside having woken up a few minutes before. Mark yawns, and stretches, reaching down to scratch at his tummy and Jackson just wants to look forever, and he remembers that _he can_ , so he does.

Mark sits back down on the edge of the bed and rests his hand on Jackson’s cheek and Jackson nuzzles into it, closes his eyes and smiles.

“Morning," Mark mumbles, his voice deep from sleep and Jackson’s stomach flips.

They both turn towards the door when they hear Jaebum knocking and telling them to get up. Jackson rolls his eyes, stretches and gets up out of bed to go make them both breakfast.

He hears Mark say his name, and fingers curl around his wrist.

“Should we tell them?” Mark queries, quiet enough so the others don’t hear, but loud enough that it’s not some dirty secret they’re hiding away. His voice is laced with worry and Jackson beams, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand and he leans forward to plant a kiss onto Mark’s forehead.

“They know,” he says against Mark’s skin, “they already know.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you want you can follow me on twitter at @softpcy \o/


End file.
